


The Choice is Not Yours

by Serethia



Series: Choice [3]
Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: Angst, Choice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-17
Updated: 2015-10-17
Packaged: 2018-04-26 20:54:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5020174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serethia/pseuds/Serethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He followed, and it did not suit him, the proud, feral beast—and yet, what else could he do?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Choice is Not Yours

**Author's Note:**

> I tend to write a lot of short drabbles that I would consider to be character studies more than anything else, but it’s really funny how much this made me a see a connection between what I was writing and what was actually in the game.
> 
> It makes me wonder exactly how much effort and subtlety Nintendo put into the game: did they intend what I’ve seen, or am I looking too closely?

He followed, and it did not suit him, the proud, feral beast—and yet, what else could he do?

He was dragged in from the start. The moment he approached the twilight barrier, his fate was no longer his, taken from him and given to an imp and the goddesses to toy with before throwing away.

“ _Listen, I like you, so I think I’ll get you out of here. But in exchange for my help, you have to do_ exactly _as I say!”_

“ _Your name is Link. You are the hero chosen by the gods.”_

The green tunic was forced upon him, a divine intervention both blessing and curse. The chainmail was protection, but the weight was a reminder of the burdens he now carried.

The wolf was forced upon him as well, and it was almost freedom, almost the urge to howl at the moon and  _run_. The manacle he could almost ignore, if not for the ringing of the few links she had left on it.

And she was the greatest burden of all.

She ruled him with an almost uncaring thoughtlessness, allowing him his distractions, but acting as an ever present reminder of his responsibilities.

She helped him, taunted him, teased him—and not always in good fun. Her goal meant more to her than he did, was more important than herself. Even when feelings changed, when they thought of the other as less a nuisance and more of a… something, her goal was supreme.

And he trusted her for it.

Honestly, she rarely ordered him to do anything. She gave him advice, told him the best place to go next, and he went.  

 

They called him proud, called him wild and feral, called him a beast: and they were not wrong. His ferocity was unmatched and his enemies did not live to tell the tale. But he was tempered, tamed by his goal.

Tamed by the imp, wherever she may be.

She ruled him in a way no one ever had, and no one ever would again.

Later—much later, when she had left, and he roamed the lands, protecting the helpless  _ ~~(destroying the malevolent)~~_ , he would wonder…

He wondered: if she had pushed that tear towards him, would he have shattered as easily as the mirror?

 

_(He was not meant to be chained, she knew—and so she let him go.)_


End file.
